


A Bond Not Even God Saw Coming

by CelestineFae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestineFae/pseuds/CelestineFae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas' confrontation, set sometime around 8x22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bond Not Even God Saw Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, I wish this would happen on the show as well, but odds are it won't. But hey, that's what fanfic is for, right? This is my first fic, so it might be slightly OOC, but I'm still learning. Enjoy the read!

It had been a week. A week since they encountered Metatron. A week since they found out about the last trial: ripping out an angel's grace. A week since Cas returned. Sam would have thought a lot of things... That they would be more focused now. That he didn't have to step on eggshells around Dean anymore. Had he been too hopeful? Maybe.

If someone gave him a power saw, he could cut through the tension in a room in which both Dean and Cas were present. In fact, Sam doesn't think they've exchanged more than three words since Cas got back; this made him extremely nervous. If he knew one thing about his brother, it's that he was this close to blowing up. Usually, he would not encourage it. However, maybe this time it wouldn't be such a bad thing. As nervous as he was, he was also tired. Tired of Dean always mocking him for trying to talk, tired of Charlie's efforts of knocking some sense into him having been in vain and just... Tired of Dean trying to lie his way through things. He wasn't fooling anyone but himself. And Sam knew for a fact that it didn't help him sleep at night.

So when Cas seemed to sense Sam's concern, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Putting his book down, he stood up and started pacing. Dean barely spared a glance from his research, while Sam frowned.

“Cas, are you okay?”

“No. I realize I have been of no help. But I would like to apologize. I know it is hard for you both to understand, but I never intended any harm coming your way.”

Sam's tirade of “it's okay” was cut short by Dean snorting.

“You know what, I'll be in my room. I need a nap. Or a gun to my head.”

Dean stormed off and Sam shook his head as the door slammed.

“Cas, it's fine... He just needs some time. This has all taken a toll on him, you know how he is with family. He almost shot me after he came back from Purgatory.”

Cas had his back turned to him, but Sam could hear a faint “family” being muttered right before he started taking determined strides towards Dean's room. Sam had doubts about leaving them alone, but then again, Cas was an angel. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Sighing, he grabbed his cellphone and made a dash out the front door to go and get a drink. He prayed to whomever was willing to listen that they didn't end up killing each other.

***

Dean was staring at the ceiling when he heard a faint knock. The silence that followed confirmed one thing: Sam was not behind that door. Dean turned his back to it and tried his best to shut everything out. It was all getting too much and he could no longer put on a brave face just so everyone would stay focused. God had other plans, as it turned out, when the door opened to let in a broken Cas. The room was silent; silent and tense, save for the determined click of the door closing.

“Dean...”

Dean shot up and hunched in on himself, much like he had done the last time he prayed to Cas.

“Cas, please... I'm tired, I need some rest.”

“I just want you to know--”

“I know, alright? I know it wasn't really you and I forgive you. I just need us all to be focused on whatever's ahead, man... I can't...”

Dean rubbed at his tired eyes as a distraction from what was really going on inside his head. And, most of all, from what was happening inside his soul.

“Dean, I can see you. I can sense you. I put you back together almost five years ago. After forty years of excruciating pain, the first thing your soul showed me when I got to you was hope. Shining brighter than anything I had ever seen before. It was raw. And it was beautiful. You are beautiful.”

“Damn it, Cas! What does that have to do with anything?”

Dean was pacing now and that was never a good sign. Even Cas knew this. Still, he went on because he was aware that, as humans like to say, “the ball was in his court”.

“I had to kill you a thousand times, Dean. That was Naomi's test. Not Sam. You.”

Dean stilled, his back turned to him as heavy breaths made their way through his lungs. If Cas didn't stop talking, he might do something he'd regret. Or not, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

“I finally stopped crying somewhere around seven hundred because I found comfort. Comfort in the fact that it was not you. Because... The one mistake Naomi had made was that you begged for your life. And I know you and hear you. I feel you, I always do. Dean... I killed you a thousand times and yet I did not. I couldn't... Does that not account for anyth--”

To say that Cas was caught off guard would be putting it lightly. One moment, he was so intent on telling Dean how much he cared for him and the next, he was slammed into the wall next to the door by a raging Dean. A Dean who had been told by Metatron that Cas might not survive the third trial.

“How is that a good thing, Cas? Huh? If there's anything I learned in this pathetic excuse of a life is that everyone I get close to dies. Just stop talking. Please, I just... I can't...”

“What, Dean? Tell me.”

“I just got you back, Cas. I can't let you... God help me, if the gates of Hell have to remain open forever, I don't care. I'm not letting you do this. I'd rather take on a world of demons for the rest of my life.”

Cas felt things... Things that not even he could explain, after so many years of existence. He knew what they all lead to, though.

“Dean... I know you will argue the contrary, but you deserve a better life than that. And I am more than willing to let go of my own in order for that to happen...”

Dean couldn't look him in the eyes as the tears refused to hold back. His hands tightened in that stupid trench coat, as he rested his forehead against the wall behind Cas' head. He knew, for a fact, that it would not be a full life. Not without his angel. Cas sensed it anyway and wished he could make it easier, but his own vessel's tear ducts seemed to break free of any restraints when Dean whispered, between sobs:

“I love you, you son of a bitch...”

Cas did then what he wished he could have done in Purgatory: he held onto Dean with everything he had, as they broke apart in one another's arms. For Hell and his mark on Dean's shoulder. For Dean torturing Alastair, for Cas rebelling against Heaven. For the laughter and the endless search for God; for the pain, for the comfort, for the betrayal. For the trust hurt, but never broken, for the amnesia and the insanity, for the bees and the honey. For Purgatory. For one losing the other. For always finding each other. For the bond that not even God saw coming.

“I love you so much, Dean...”

***

It was eerily quiet when Sam got back to the bunker. Against every rational thought, he was worried, so it only seemed natural to check Dean's room. He couldn't say he didn't expect what he found, but tears prickled behind his eyes anyway... Two broken, but newly healed men holding one another on Dean's bed, tears staining their faces.  
Sam quietly shut the door to let them sleep. They needed it.

And God knows they earned it.


End file.
